The Second Grail War
by tfoudray
Summary: The second grail war: the event that rocked the world of magic to its very foundations, and, although it did not corrupt the grail (that happened in the third war), it was so bloody and dangerous that the mages invited the church, their sworn enemy, to oversee future wars. This is the story about what happened in the 1860s to warrant such unusual cooperation.
1. The Birth of the Legend of Saber

Chapter 1: The Birth of the Legend of Saber as the Strongest Servant

In the mid 1860s, the Magi of the three great houses, the Tohsaka, the Matou, and the Einzbern sent out an invitation to every mage they could find that considered him or herself a member of the Mages Association. A few non-members acquired the information present on the invitation as well, one way or another. Come to the Japanese city of Fuyuki, fight with your fellow magi, and obtain the true power, limitless magic, and reach the Akasha, the root of all magic. It had been sixty years since the original ritual, and now it was time to begin again, gather the heroic spirits, and summon the Holy Grail. The Holy Grail, they said, was nearly full, and the contest would begin. On boats and across the land they came. Some even used magic to sail through the sky on carpets or brooms. The first seven to summon servants would have the chance to achieve their goals, whatever they might be.

The sleepy mountain town of Fuyuki was the conflux of several leylines, and, combined with the grail vessel crafted by the Einzberns, was the home to what would, in the years to come, be known as the Grail War. The Holy Grail ritual, as it was known at the beginning of this, the second invocation of the Holy Grail, was about to commence. However, it would not be long before it was known far and wide as the Grail War, as the streets would run red with blood. Unsupervised except by the three great families - themselves participants - this ritual would eventually drive the Mages Association to the unthinkable: requesting that their enemy, the Church, oversee the War. This War would see the bloodiest and most dangerous fighting the world of magic had, perhaps, ever known.

The Tohsaka were the first to summon their servant. Deep in the basements underneath the Tohsaka dojo - a building that would, in later years, be rebuilt as a western style manor - Tatsuya Tohsaka carried out a ritual to call forth a heroic spirit. Tatsuya was the grandson of Nagato Tohsaka, one of the three founding members of the Holy Grail ritual, and a direct disciple of the great wizard Zelretch. Nagato, now ancient and decrepit, watched the ritual from across the barren basement. The basement was largely natural, with only a few walls added, and a few extra spaces excavated. Shelves carved directly out of the walls were filled with various magical and mundane trinkets. Stockpiles of gems imbued with magic during the 60 years since the first Holy Grail ritual; scrolls and books describing magical ritual and process; secret Christian texts, hidden from the intolerant Japanese government.

Tatsuya himself was a young man, not quite twenty years old. His brown hair was cut short, and he wore a red and black martial arts uniform - the family colors that his ancestor, Rin Tohsaka, would eventually take for herself. His muscles were toned and strong, his movements fluid and precise. His magic circuits blazed brightly, though they were few in number, the Tohsaka being the weakest magically of Zelretch's three disciples. His intense gaze and extreme focus kept him from even noticing the old man in the corner of the room.

Tatsuya intoned the words prepared beforehand by his mother, who died nearly twenty years ago giving birth to him. Slowly, his magic filled the great ritual circle engraved upon the basement floor. Directly in front of him stood a pedestal, at the center of the ritual circle. Upon the pedestal stood the relic, the focus for his summoning ritual, that would allow him to call forth a great heroic spirit. It was an enormous two-handed longsword, engraved in Germanic writing. It was as long as Tatsuya was tall, and although it was clearly of an ancient design, it was well maintained, and shone in the magical light of the jeweled sconces and the ritual circle itself.

In a sudden flash of light, the magical energy that had been flowing into the circle flowed up to a space on the opposite side of the pedestal from Tatsuya. The magical energy gathered itself into a sphere, and then slowly adjusted its shape to that of a man. A tall man. A very tall man. Slowly, the light faded, and the heroic spirit stood present. Tatsuya grinned as a series of red glyphs appears on his right hand and wrist.

"Master." The tall man said with a nod. He was immensely tall, though lean to the point of almost seeming gaunt. He was also old. Not nearly as old as Nagato, observing the scene through glazed eyes in the corner, but still definitely an older man. His muscles were wiry and thin. His hair and short beard were a smattering of white and grey, and lines and scars marked his face and exposed torso where his simple loose fitting tunic did not cover. Simply put, he didn't look heroic.

And Tatsuya noticed. "Seriously? Aren't you a bit old for a heroic spirit? Shouldn't you be.. All muscular and young? I mean, I'm probably stronger than you."

The old man smiled slowly. "You would duel with the heroic spirit Saber? Very well, Master. If this is how you would like to engage in our contract, then so be it. I believe in this country…" He thought for a moment, then performed a proper Japanese bow, suitable for a dojo.

Tatsuya laughed, and returned the bow. Then, as he was assuming his martial stance, he found himself staring at the ceiling, a sharp pain in the back of his head. He had been knocked off his feet in the blink of an eye.

"A heroic spirit is just that, young master. A spirit. My physical appearance need not worry you, as my strength comes from your mana, and my will and legacy. Still, even in life, I was my strongest at this age. Wisdom and skill can defeat prowess and strength at every turn. That is something you might do well to learn." He held his hand down, and helped Tatsuya up. Then he grasped the sword off the pedestal in his other hand, and went down to one knee. "I pledge my service to you, young master. May we acquire the Holy Grail together."


	2. The local color to rival the three

Chapter 2: The local color to rival the three great houses.

With the first summoning by the Tohsaka, the war was imminent. Magus after magus arrived in the city, each trying to get their own servant, each hoping that they had arrived in time, and that they would get their chance to participate in this great ritual, that they had been selected by the grail itself to be a master of a heroic servant, that they could perform the rituals necessary and join the event. Already a magically strong city, the arrival of so many skilled magicians wreaked havoc on the magical leylines arcing through the city. The gossips and news criers all spoke of the aurora borealis appearing in the sky, far further south than it would normally be observed. The locals experienced strange distortions in time and space as the fabric of reality, affected by the immense power of the grail and the proximity of so many magic users.

There were even several ancients among those present in the city - possessing sorcery the likes of which the world had not known for ages. Bypassing the usual limitations on magic, these powerful beings transcended expectations, and could perform feats on par with the gods. Even they sought the Holy Grail.

But it was not just the powerful that attempted to summon servants. And only seven of the gathered magi would be selected. One of these was the second magus to summon a servant, Mikihiko Shibata. A local mage from Fuyuki, the last of his line, Mikihiko saw the Holy Grail ritual as his chance to join the ranks of the great magi of the land, and bring the Shibata family on par with the three great families, the Matou, the Einzbern, and the Tohsaka. It was his last, most desperate gamble.

Mikihiko was an average man in all respects. Average height, average weight, average appearance, and average magical ability. Nothing about him stood out. He wore average, dull, earth tone clothes that made his only stand-out quality the very fact that nothing about him stood out. In his mid-twenties, he knew this about himself, and sought to use it to his advantage. Lacking the resources of the larger houses, he could not find a relic to be the catalyst to summon a Servant. However, if the rumors were true, one Servant could be summoned without the use of any relics. Standing in a small ritual chamber in his home on the riverbank, he intoned a single word as he poured his magic into the summoning circle. "Assassin."

The room lit up, and then, suddenly, the candles lining the walls were extinguished. The soft glow of Mikihiko's magic faded to nothing. The room was pitch black. Mikihiko brushed some hair from his shoulder as he waited for his eyes to adjust. Then he brushed again. And again. Then he looked down. It was not his hair. Long black strands crawled up his body, capturing him, like a snake constricting its prey.

"There you are, servant. I am your master, Mikihiko Shibata. You must be Hassan-i-Sabbah." Mikihiko spoke boldly, though small drops of sweat appeared on his brow, and he swallowed as the long black hair continued to entwine him. It grazed his cheek, and where it did the skin broke, and a small trickle of blood oozed out.

The feminine voice came out of the darkness. "Shibata, is it? Very well. You have proven that, if nothing else, you face your fears. Perhaps we can work together." The woman stepped out of the shadows as the candles' glow slowly returned to the ritual room. She was a striking woman, with a curved yet athletic figure covered completely in form-fitting black cloth. Her face was completely obscured by a skull face mask. From the top of her head, a writhing mass of black hair fell down her back, snaked across the floor, and was wrapped around Mikihiko. As she accepted him, the hair began to recede, until it finally stopped becoming shorter. At its shortest, it still reached her calves.

"What are your plans to win this Grail, Master Shibata?" The sultry voice asked, her hair swaying seductively as she spoke. "Let us determine our strategy."


	3. When two Servants are summoned

Chapter 3: When two Servants are summoned simultaneously.

The Matou house, not far from the Tohsaka house, was the third magus to summon their servant. Zouken Makiri, who would later be known as Zouken Matou, watched over his latest protege as she painstakingly followed the steps to perform the ritual to summon a Servant. Midori Matou, one of Zouken's first children in Japan, was his choice for this war. Deep in the cellars, Midori, surrounded by the insects that were, even then, growing in the darkest places of the house, began her work.

Midori took after her father, Zouken, in many ways. Her physique was lean and pale, her appearance, while youthful, was not the type to win any beauty pageants. She had the same sickly, sunken cheeks as her father, even in her youth. Her dark, hollow eyes spoke to the horror she had gone through in her training under Zouken - training that meant increasing power at any cost.

Midori was dressed in traditional shrine-maiden garb. The Matou family was not affiliated with any shrine, but Midori found the clothing to be surprisingly comfortable, and it drew attention away from her pasty skin. In her hands, Midori held a scrap of ancient cloth - a burial shroud of some kind. Her immense magical power filled the chamber with brilliant light. The insects scurried away, seeking shelter from the brilliance. The room shook, as Midori, unsupervised, intoned the words to cloud the Servant's vision with rage.

Earlier, Zouken had advised Midori on the ritual, having been one of the founding members of the ritual and having produced the original rituals to summon servants himself. Confident in his bloodline's power and ability to control the strongest of heroes, even if they were enraged, Zouken advised Midori to summon the Berserker, to increase the power of their summoned hero, and give it the strength to defeat all other servants.

The shaking in the room stopped, and the brilliant light slowly faded away. The insects crept back into the chamber, eventually making their way to Midori's feet. She waited a few more moments, then looked part crestfallen, and part fearful. "Did.. did I fail? Oh.. oh no. What will father say? This can't be happening!"

Then, out of the corner of the chamber, she saw it. A pair of red eyes lit up the darkness. Her voice caught in her throat. "Roar!" the voice was almost playful, saying the word, rather than actually roaring. "Not what you'd expect from a Berserker, I suppose, eh Master?" The red eyes gleamed in the darkness, and Midori realized - they were below her own eye level. The voice sounded young and clear, but with a hint of something feral behind it. "I won't disappoint, that I can promise you. What about you, Master? Will you disappoint me?"

Across town, at almost the exact same time, one of the powerful visitors from another part of the world completed his own ritual inside a building made of pure magic that he had constructed on the edge of town. It was enamored with powerful aversion magic - normal humans would not even know it was there, and even most magi would miss it if they were not looking specifically for it. Externally, it looked much like any small hovel on the outskirts of the town - in fact, its appearance was borrowed directly from another hovel a little less than a kilometer away. Inside, however, was a well equipped magical workshop. Incense filled the air, and strange magical charms hung in a pattern over the ceiling. Books and reagents filled the shelves lining nearly every wall. A simple cot was folded up in one corner. It was not large, but it was cozy.

The magus stood in the center of the magical room that was in a pocket dimension - a sort of reality marble that linked our own world to another one where his workshop existed. On an altar adorned with elephants and snakes was an canopic jar, marked with Egyptian hieroglyphics.

The light of the ritual faded, and a small boy in golden armor appeared. His golden eyes shone with a light all their own. Even though he could not have been older than twelve, his aura was one of pure power and command. "Ahh, I see you have my heart. And you would make use of the God King Tutankhamen in your war for this Grail? Fairly degrading to be a mere Servant. Perhaps when we win this Grail, I'll fix that. What is your name, Master Magus?"

The magus, a mystic from India, wore traditional Indian robes and had the brown skin common to his homeland. His headdress wrapped nearly a foot above the top of his head. "The Mystic, Ravi Lanker, at your service, God King." He bowed deeply. "Might I ask what aspect of the war you embody? Now that you have arrived, I should like to begin planning our strategy."

The boy laughed. It was at once childish, and dismissive. "I am the God King. I can assume any role that this petty ritual might need of me, I imagine. But in this particular case, I am of the class Archer. I shall bring my armies bows to bear on our enemies. As for our strategy.." He paused and looked around, his eyes filled with obvious disdain. "This will not suffice. Let us acquire a more suitable headquarters as our first order of business."

Ravi glanced up from his low bow, then over at the command spells inscribed on his right hand. He bit his lip, and nodded. "As you wish, King Tutankhamen. I suspect we can find a more.. fitting location."


	4. The Forever Sorceress and her Servant

Chapter 4: The Forever Sorceress and her Servant

It was another two days before the next summoning occurred. The attempts to summon the remaining three servants fizzled throughout the city. Disappointed magi continued their attempts, desperately wanting to take part in this ritual. Some few simply gave up and left. Most kept trying, or, as their magical power ran low through repeated failed attempts, instead decided to take up temporary residence in the city to learn what they could about the ritual, in hopes that they, or their students, could participate in the ritual in another sixty years should this one end in failure as the first had. The mundane local populace did not understand the sudden influx of travelers from across the globe, but they did not turn their backs on their guests. Inns were filled to capacity and then some as magi from opposing houses were forced to share the same space.

Occasional magical violence erupted in the night. The locals stopped trying to explain the odd happenings, and simply stayed inside during the evening, snuffing candles earlier and earlier every night as rumors of people going missing became more and more common.

One unlucky man, who had stayed out a little too late drinking a little too much, found himself strapped to a solid stone altar built into one of the many caverns underneath the city. Leather straps dug into his wrists and ankles as he squirmed against the restraints. Torches flickered along the walls. Out of the corner of his eyes, the man could see what could only have been a pile of corpses. The stone altar itself was slick with blood. The corpses all looked pale and drained. The sigil etched deep into the floor, was mostly filled with blood - the blood of all those people.

Then, out of the shadows, a woman appeared. In the world of magi, there is simple magic. It follows rules, and can be replicated through application of the same rituals and techniques using a family's magic crest and an individual's' magic circuits. Beyond magic, however, there is sorcery. This surpasses the limits of known magic, and can only be done by few individuals with unique and powerful talents. This primeval sorcery was obviously present in the woman before him. Her appearance, only moments ago that of a comely young woman beckoning him to follow, was now that of a matronly woman. She wore an Aztec outfit, leathers of Mesoamerican beasts and feathers of great birds adorned her head. In her hand, she held a sharp knife of flint.

Downward it flew, and pierced the man in the heart. He attempted to cry out, but the motion was too sudden, and he choked for only a moment before expiring. Compelled by some magic in the stone altar, the blood in his body flowed out through the hole in his chest, and down into the giant sigil in the floor. This man was the final one. The ritual circle filled with his blood, the last sections of the glyph connecting to form a summoning circle. With a wave of her hand, the woman magically threw the lifeless corpse of her latest victim into the pile with the rest.

"I am Zyanza, the Always, the Forever. Mentor to the greatest magi of the ages, I summon my Servant, now, to this Ritual for the power of the gods. Come!" Her tone was that of a person who had not been disobeyed in perhaps hundreds of years. Whether she was originally chosen by the grail, or her immense power and her countless sacrifices were enough to twist the choices of the Grail might never be known. The simple fact was that after intoning this simple request, the blood that filled the sigil on the ground flowed up back onto the altar, and took the form of a person crouched on top of the altar.

The blood took form, and then adjusted to show the features of a young woman. Her skin and hair changed from blood colored to darker browns. Then, a few moments later, Zyanza laughed. She was looking at a younger mirror of herself.

"Me, as a Servant to myself. How fitting. But.. you seem weak for a Heroic Spirit, Lancer. Weaker than me in many regards, it seems… Hmm. We'll have to fix that, won't we?"

The young woman stood, the last of the blood rushing up to her hands to form a long spear of simple wood, adorned with a pair of feathers and tipped with flint. "Of course, Master. I think I know the perfect way." She grinned, her green eyes filled with darkness.


	5. An American in Japan being an American

Chapter 5: An American in Japan being an American in Japan

"I swear! The old man refused to use any magic in the war! I mean, how many lives could he have saved by getting a few magi together and crushing that General Lee from the other side of the battlefield? Damn Confederates, anyway."

"You know there are rules, right? Like, we can't just go using magic out in the open like that. The Magi Association and worse, the Church wouldn't put up with that. There's no way you Americans would get away with that sort of thing!"

"Bah! You got no cajones, friend. Gotta take a risk every now and then! Speaking of, I'm off! Gotta get my place in this Grail war before it gets too late!" The man, a large American with a muscled chest and short spiked blonde hair stood up, downed the last of his sake, grinned as it burned its way down his throat, and sauntered out of the inn and down the road. His drinking companion, a local and the second largest person in the room after the American, just shook his head, apparently glad to be rid of the man.

Eventually, the American stopped in a public park. Dusk settled over the sleepy town, and the locals began to turn in for the night. A few scurried home in the dark from drinking, or whatever other errands kept them out in the evening. Oblivious to their presence, the American knelt in the late summer grass in the park near the center of town, and dug out a small magic circle in the ground.

From under his loose fitting shirt, the man pulled out a pendant. It was a simple thing, a smoothed stone in a circle, with a simple strap running through a hole. "Man, I really hope one of my ancestors is one of them Hero Spirits. Otherwise this will never work!"

His voice boomed through the still night air as the sun sank deep below the horizon, and he chanted, and opened his magic circuits wide, allowing the power to flow through him. As boisterous as he seemed, he carefully controlled his magic, directing it to perform exactly the ritual he wanted, with no waste. His small family crest, with only his own and his father's magical ability, had few spells, but what ability he did have, he controlled perfectly. His brief time in the Mages Tower in London was met with the usual disdain for unestablished families tempered by respect for his obvious efforts and skill.

As he finished the chant, the words echoed back to him off the mountain behind the town, and there was a sudden flash of light, turning the night of the park into nearly broad daylight. Out of the lights stepped a figure.

She tilted her head, and looked around. She wore a tight black tank top and had a short red skirt and torn stockings. Her black boots went all the way to her knees. Her hair was short and spikey and dyed bright pink. On her arm was a strange device - a small board covered with letters and a screen that glowed in the night even after the magic of the summoning faded.

"For Real?" She sighed. "No internet? This is gonna SUUUCK!"

The American laughed at the girl, who was a full two heads shorter than him. "Internet? What is that? Well, nevermind that! I'm Willie, and we've got a Grail to get!"

The girl looked up at him. "Oh, your pendant. I see." She lifted her hands to her own neck, where the exact same pendant hung. "You must be like my great great great great great granddad or uncle or something, huh? Well, I guess we had best make the most of this. I'm Rider, though not a lot of information superhighways to ride in this age, it seems. Nice to meetcha." She looked a bit crestfallen. Then she perked up. "Oh, wait, I'm a heroic spirit now. I can do this!" She grabbed Willie's arm, and in the blink of an eye, the two of them were on the roof of a nearby building. "Pretty neat, eh? I mean, riding light waves is pretty much the best superpower ever, right? Eat your heart out, Spiderman!"

Willie beamed with pride. "Amazing! Also, who's Spiderman?"


	6. The Final Servant

Chapter 6: The final Servant

The last of the servants to be summoned was by Lord Greed Von Einzbern, the head of the third of the three founding families. A great alchemist, Greed was known for his incredible powers. Moreover, as a member of the Einzbern family, he was one of those responsible for the creation of the greater grail vessel, a homunculus woman known as Justeaze Von Einzbern. She had been created as a homunculus sixty years prior for the first grail ritual. With her at his shoulder, he knew when the other Masters were selected, though he did not know where they were. The beginning of the ritual only awaited his final summoning.

Lord Greed wore a tailored white suit, covering his pale body from head to toe in white. His hair was not the white of age, but rather the natural whiteness of the Einzbern family, though he was no longer a young man.

The evening following the summoning of Rider, halfway around the bay outside of Fuyuki, Greed stood facing the water. He stood composed, his hair ruffled by the strong winds from the sea. Justeaze watched from up the hill, her perfect homunculus form untouched by the sixty years since the first Holy Grail ritual. Lord Einzbern had etched a ritual circle into the sand of the beach. It had taken him and Justeaze hours to finish the circle, and in just a few more hours, the tide would rise and consume it. At the center of the circle, embedded in the wet sand, was a large jewel of deep blue.

Greed intoned the magical words, summoning forth the most powerful magus servant, Caster. From town, the light of his summoning was visible. The beach lit up, and a few drunkards still out in the dusk of night gasped and ran to cover as the beach shed a light that rivaled that of day. As the light blue faded away, on the beach, Greed smiled, a wicked and unsavory smile, as he looked at the man now standing in the center of the circle.

"Sir Francis Drake. It is a pleasure to meet you. I presume you know where you are, and what ritual we have in store?"

The man was of average height, and wore dark robes, and had a small, pointed beard of dark brown hair. The white ruffles around his neck looked almost like those of a court jester. On his waist, he wore a belt featuring the same large jewel that was embedded in the sand in front of him. "Yes, my good man. I understand the ritual, although as I understand it, it would be wise to refer to me by my class, rather than my name." He glanced up the shore toward Justeaze, her long white hair blowing nearly horizontally in the fierce wind that seemed only to get stronger now that the summoning was complete.

Lord Greed smiled. "We are in good company for now. Let us adjourn to our ship and continue our planning." He gestured to a small skiff nearby, and then toward the galleon halfway across the bay.

Caster smiled. "As you wish, Master."


	7. On how to be a King

Chapter 7: On how to be a King

The day following the arrival of the final servant marked the beginning of the ritual. The assembled magi from around the globe, however, did not have any particular insight into the fact that the ritual had begun. They continued to remain in town, to observe, or to attempt to summon another servant, unaware that the grail had already summoned all seven servants.

That day also marked the arrival of the storm. In these, the first days of the war, the storm was fierce, but within the realm of normalcy. Wind whipped through the town, dark clouds hung in the sky, and rain poured down. The occasional streak of lightning and crack of thunder filled the sky. The following week would change things, but for now, the storm was a normal, if strong and unexpected, shift in the weather.

It was into these conditions that the various masters and their servants began the Holy Grail ritual. They each understood - either from their own family's experience, or from the instructions provided by their Servants, who had the knowledge imbued upon them by the grail itself - that in order to acquire the grail, only one Servant could remain, and that as spirits, only they could claim the grail. Some servants were sent to scout, others to hunt. Some stayed in their lairs and fortified themselves against the inevitable assaults from the other Servants and Masters.

Archer and his master, Ravi, moved through the streets, Ravi's magic deflecting the rain from the pair in a sphere around them. The locals were staying out of the rain, and more to the point, Archer refused to go out into this weather without magical protection. He was upset enough that he did not have any slaves to carry him around town, though Ravi finally convinced him that they could not display their hand until the other masters were at least determined to not all be allied together against them.

"This. This will do."

Ravi looked aghast. "That is the central police station. Men with guns, trying to stop crime. Perhaps we should.."

Archer glared at Ravi, his golden armor dulled by the rain, but his golden eyes still shining with a dangerous light. "When the God King speaks, he shall be obeyed. This WILL be our headquarters." He strode forward, into the police station. Ravi followed slowly behind, frustration playing across his face. He absently scratched the three command seals on the back of his hand.

When he reached the inside of the police station, he was shocked to find the entire police force on one knee, heads bowed to Archer. When Archer waved his hand, they rose to their feet, and a soft golden glow emanated from their eyes. "Our lives for yours, God King!" They chanted in unison.

Archer let a small smile play across his young face. "Excellent. You shall be the beginnings of my army in this age. You -" He waved his arm to one side of the office. "Patrol the outside and ensure I am not disturbed. I must plan for the upcoming battles."

Out of the back of the police station, from a door marked 'Police Chief,' a man emerged. "What's going on here?" He bellowed. "Back to your stations, men!" As one, all of the police in the station, and the two criminals that were being processed at the time, turned to face him, the golden glow of their unblinking eyes staring him down.

Archer laughed a childish laugh of cruelty. The assembled police reached for their guns. Those that did not have any reached into the air, and Egyptian bows manifested in their hands in a twinkle of golden light. The chief's eyes went wide, and suddenly the bang of pistols and the twang of bows filled the station. The Chief collapsed, riddled with bullet holes and golden arrows, crafted by Archer's magic.

Ravi looked on, eyes wide, then, in a moment of panic, fled the office.

He didn't bother to erect his magical field to protect himself from the rain. He walked through the dark town, losing himself in the twisting streets. The cold rain soaked him to the bone, and his spinning head slowly cleared. "How could he do such a thing? I thought this was a ritual to summon the Holy Grail. But he.. He killed an innocent man. He exposed his magic to all those people! The Association is going to be so… I need to get in touch with them, and let them know what is happening here!" He nodded to himself, and looked around to get his bearings.

Out of the darkness, he saw King Tutankhamun, his golden armor making soft plinking noises as the raindrops fell onto it. Behind him was a small entourage of townsfolk, their eyes aglow.

"Archer. We are stopping this at once. This ritual has gotten out of hand. I am reporting this to the Association, and they are going to put a stop to this once and for all." Ravi stood, legs spread, projecting his non-trivial power as a magus.

The God King grinned. "Oh, are we now? That sounds nice. But first, where is our headquarters again? I seem to have gotten turned around."

Ravi's eyebrows raised. "What? The Police Station is just.. Over there." He waved his hand dismissively. "But never mind that.. I'm .. What are you doing?"

King Tutankhamun was striding forward, a wicked looking khopesh – a curved Egyptian sword - held in his hands. His eyes burned with murder. "I'm killing you." He said in a passive voice by way of explanation.

Ravi held up his hand with the command spells. "As your master, I command you to stop!" The spell on Ravi's hand faded away, but the King kept on coming closer.

"Archer! Stop this instant! By the power of the command spell, you shall not come any closer!"

Again, the spell faded away, the magic flowed out of Ravi, but the God King continued to move forward, seemingly unaffected by the magical power of the grail.

Ravi looked up, and the King, and at his entourage stalking closer behind him, all armed with wicked looking weapons. The King leapt forward, and slashed down into Ravi's chest, and Ravi realized his mistake. His stupid, fatal mistake.

Their eyes were red. A red of pure rage and hatred. "Archer… to… me…." His last words and his last command spell filled the air, and suddenly, standing over the corpse of his former master, stood the mirror of the King in front of him. Two versions of King Tutankhamun had been summoned in this war, each to a different class, and here they stood, across from one another.

Archer, the golden eyed God King, looked down at Ravi's corpse, and scoffed. "Well, that takes care of that for me. I appreciate the assistance, Berserker. Although I do have independent action as the Archer in this ritual, I will eventually have a need for a new mana source. Perhaps you have a suggestion in that regard?"

Berserker, the red eyed God King, laughed as the red glow of his follower's eyes shined off his armor in the dull rain. "Yes, I certainly do." He licked the blood off his sword, and turned to stalk off into the night.


	8. A Night on the Town

Chapter 8: A Night on the Town

Lightning crashed through the sky and silhouetted the two women perched atop the roof of the inn, staring each other down. The first, her long hair whipping about her as if it had a mind of its own, had an annoyed posture, but if she were scowling, it would have been hidden behind her skull mask.

The second simply grinned, her spiked pink hair matted against her head by the downpour of rain. "Come on, Assassin! I thought you were better than that." She sounded like she was having fun.

"If you would just let your Master alone for a moment, this could all be over, Rider. Or you could hold still. I'm fine either way, really." Her hair snaked out across the rooftop to where Rider was standing - only to find the other Servant had disappeared in the blink of an eye. Assassin crouched down and flipped under the traditional Japanese style roof of the inn, and crawled around underneath, like a spider, searching for Rider's master. At least he didn't seem to have the ability to teleport wherever he pleased. And as boisterous as he was, he was sure to give himself away again soon.

From another building across the street, Rider's voice echoed. "Why would I want this to be over? This is super fun! Don't you just love being an all-powerful heroic spirit?"

Assassin remained in hiding. She realized that attacking Rider would just give her position away. Like all assassins, she possessed the presence concealment special ability. The Assassin class was the weakest of the heroic spirits, but any servant could easily kill a master in a one on one fight , leaving the servants to fade and be absorbed by the grail as they lost their mana source for the ritual.

Assassin saw him, peeking around a corner, seven blocks away - the tall, muscular, blonde man that was Rider's master. She sent but a single thread of her hair towards him, invisible in the rain. It was harder for her to control in the rain and wind of the storm, but for an ordinary human in the current age, even an imprecise hit would be enough to end his life.

The hair weaved forward through the air, as if avoiding the deluge of raindrops, and reached its target, slashing forward. Instead of his head flying off, as Assassin saw startled to see his image shimmer as the hair slashed through it, disrupted by the attack, but otherwise uninjured.

"Gotcha!" Rider appeared behind Assassin, and thrust forward with two open palms, stacked vertically, her forearm computer and then her hands crackling with magical energy. "Hadouken!" she yelled.

Assassin spread her hair outward to form a shield between herself and Rider, a solid wall of long, black strands, and the blue magical energy of Rider's magical mimicry arced forward. Assassin flew backwards following the strike and landed in the middle of the street below, as Rider fell down as well, under the eaves of the inn. A crash of lightning filled the sky.

"Damn no name servant. How many techniques do you have?" Assassin glowered at Rider, who tilted her head, cracking her neck.

"Well, I guess that so long as I have read the code, I can do the technique. So, pretty much all of them?" Rider grinned. "Not really a fair fight, is it? I mean, I can do, well, basically everything, and you.. Uhh.. you have fancy hair. I mean, no offense, it's totally amazing, I'll grant you that. I mean, seriously. What conditioner do you use? So shiny..."

Assassin launched an all-out attack as Rider was talking. Thousands of strands of hair lashed forward, filling the street, and slashing forward toward Rider. Suddenly, Rider wasn't there, but Assassin didn't stop. Her hair continued forward, slashing the wall behind to ribbons. The interior of the inn, dozens of locals drinking, was interrupted. Hundreds of tiny pieces of the wall, torn apart by Assassin's vicious attack, flew into the room, driving those inside to terror. Another flash of lightning and crash of thunder filled the street, giving those within a brief glimpse of what looked, from their perspective, to be a mass of writhing hair.

In the center of the room, still drinking his sake and attempting to pat his latest drinking companion on the back was Rider's Master, Willie, his blonde hair reflecting the ample light in the room, and his giant stature towering over the other drinkers, even as they were all seated on the floor.

Rider flashed next to him a half a second later. "Tch. You noticed." She glared out at Assassin, and put her hand on her master's shoulder.

Suddenly, Assassin leapt to backwards, taking up a defensive stance, and looked down the street. The patrons of the inn took the opportunity to flee out the front door on the opposite side of the building. The news the next day would report only that it was a "freak accident from a lightning strike during this unprecedented storm", and that many patrons were too inebriated to offer any reliable report of the events.

Rider's eyes narrowed, her hand still on her Master's shoulder in the now vacant inn, as a new figure walked into view. She could tell from the magical aura it emanated that this was no ordinary human. The tall, dark skinned woman carried a feather adorned spear nonchalantly at her side. Her stance was nonthreatening, but her aura was dangerous enough that rain vaporized instead of getting her wet, causing her to appear to have a small fog of steam covering her.

Rider sighed. "Lancer. How rude. I was just having a good time with Assassin over there. Why do you have to interrupt?"

"My apologies, ladies. My master and I thought it would be in all of our best interest to inform you of the first casualty of this ritual." Lancer's seductive voice oozed with danger. "Now, now, don't give me that look, you two. I wasn't involved. It seems that Berserker has slain Archer's master."

Assassin didn't drop her defensive stance for a moment, her hair still whirling dangerously about her. "So what? That's one less for us to deal with. Why interrupt just to tell us that?"

Lancer laughed. There was an echo of something definitely not human about that laugh. "If you would let me finish, perhaps you could learn something. I am here to tell you that Archer has contracted with Berserker's master, and now two of the strongest Servants in this ritual are working together. As such, I am here to propose a temporary alliance. The three of us band together and take out Berserker and Archer, then we go our separate ways. What say you?"


	9. Battle Royale Fuyuki

Chapter 9: Battle Royale Fuyuki

The center of Fuyuki was a disaster zone. There would be no official reports of the devastation the next day - the newspaper office was among the many casualties of the battle. By the morning, even many of the magi who had intended to stay and observe the ritual would flee the town, not to mention the locals who had begun to barricade themselves in, or flee to neighboring towns to stay with relatives.

The first cause of the destruction was obvious. The storm that had been raging the past several days was furious. People could barely walk outside between the howling gales and beating rain. The lightning strikes were so frequent that night looked much like day. Several fires had started in various parts of town from the unnatural storm, only to burn themselves out in the constant rain. Some buildings that were not properly grounded had taken direct lightning hits that inflicted minor damage. If the storm continued, the whole town itself was in danger of being destroyed.

The second cause of the destruction was, if more localized, several times more dangerous. Five servants and three masters battled across the city streets, made brazen by the cover of the storm. Midori Matou commanded two God Kings, Berserker and Archer, who themselves commanded armies of local humans converted to their cause. While Archer's minions were composed and fired their weapons into the fight from tactically advantageous positions - at least as advantageous as they could be given the weather - Berserker's locals were fueled by pure rage. The red eyed humans were able to match even Servants on nearly even footing.

Standing against them, the trio of servants Assassin, Rider, and Lancer were hard pressed to get close. Berserker and Archer would send part of their entourage to intercept them every time they tried to get close. Assassin's master, Mikihiko Shibata, supported the fight from afar, lending his modest magical abilities to track the enemy, and feed information to the other fighters on his side. Rider's Master, Willie, took great joy in punching various minions in the face. Lancer's master was not present - pleading for her as an ancient woman not fit for the thick of fighting, Lancer was present without her master.

Rider attempted repeatedly to teleport herself close enough to the Kings, but after the first failed attempt was foiled by Berserker's surprisingly tough golden armor, Midori was using her magic to change the refraction of the light through the water drops as it fell, causing Rider to land off target.

Assassin used her presence concealment to try to get around the minions and launch an attack on the kings, but as their minions apparently needed little if any direction, they were able to detect and deflect Assassin's attacks with each, even with her allies posing as distractions.

As such, the battle did not look to be one that would be over soon. Rider and Willie attempted to subdue the enslaved minions that blocked their path, while Lancer and Assassin both took more severe routes to deal with the constant stream of enslaved minions. They both outright killed anyone that got in their way. Lancer looked especially gleeful in the task.

However, even as the servants fought on, no end was in sight. As soon as the Tutankhamun tag-team looked to be running low on enslaved humans, they simply relocated to a new place, with new people, and gathered more slaves. Midori seemed content to allow this battle of attrition, as did her Servants. None on either side seemed quite ready to unleash the full power of their Noble Phantasms.

The turning point of the battle was unexpected. Among the wash of magical energy that was five servants fighting one another, they almost didn't notice the arrival of a sixth figure from down the street, his visage shrouded by the rain as it blew nearly sideways. The old man man was tall and thin, and his master, a half step behind him, was muscular and only average height. Saber had arrived at the battle.

Tatsuya Tohsaka called out to the assembled servants. "This is no way to conduct a ritual! Look at this town! At these people! You are supposed to be Heroic Spirits, not Monsters!" He called out, his voice barely discernable over the howl of the storm.

Mikihiko frowned from the back lines of the battle that had ground to a slow halt with Saber's arrival, as the assembled Servants and Masters tried to assess the newcomer's role. "The Grail chose us to be the masters. It is not to you, any of you, to force your code of conduct upon us!" He stole a glance back at Midori, hate seething in his eyes. "Just because you two happen to come from established magical families doesn't give you the right to control the rest of us! We're magi, too, you bastards!"

Tatsuya raised his eyebrows. "It doesn't matter what I am, other than a fellow human! This behavior is despicable!"

Mikihiko roared "Assassin! Kill him! Kill them all!" His rage rivaled that of one of Berserker's slaves. His frustration seemed to know no bounds.

Assassin leapt from the top of one of the buildings to right next to her Master. She pushed him down underneath her, and her hair started to rise on its own. "Zabaniya: Raving Shadow Flash, One Million Shadows" She hissed.

Her hair exploded outward, consuming everything around her. Walls offered no resistance. Slaves threw themselves in between the explosion of hair and their respective masters, only to be skewered. Lancer leapt back, swinging her spear to clear the hair, taking dozens of wounds, but apparently saving her vital areas. Rider grabbed her master and disappeared in an instant.

Then, the curse activated. All those present felt its chill effect. The rain stopped, and then reversed its steady descent. History rewrote itself. Saber spoke as the curse activated: "Zettel. The Epitome." - a barely audible whisper against the now completely silent storm that should have been raging.

Those gathered relived the same scene, except this time, the storm stood still, and their actions were the same, though their will may have been to act differently. As Assassin attempted to activate her Noble Phantasm, Saber dashed forward, his speed leaving afterimages. As Assassin's One Million Shadows burst outward, Saber danced between the fibers. It should have been impossible - they were too close together for a large man like him to pass by uninjured, yet the curse made it happen anyway. He raised his huge sword, and swung it down, its shining blade reflecting on the raindrops still barely moving against the hold of the powerful magic in the air.

Then time resumed its normal flow. Assassin's head toppled to the ground as the rain fell down. Her hair, now its usual length of reaching her calves, splayed out around her. The shining magic that had infused it moments before was completely gone. And, somehow, not a single thread of it had been cut by Saber's sword.

The various Servants and Masters looked on in awe. Saber's curse was powerful. Too powerful. Midori signaled Berserker and Archer, and the trio turned around and left the scene, leaving their slaves behind. After a moment, they collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Rider grabbed her master, and disappeared to safety.

Only Lancer and Saber remained of the gathering of servants.

Lancer watched Saber, carefully guarding herself. Saber turned, wordlessly, and followed his master as they left to gather the unconscious slaves and bring them indoors against the weather.

Lancer, however, was not yet done. As soon as Saber was out of sight, she turned and looked upon Mikihiko Shibata, leaning over Assassin's evaporating corpse. She lunged forward, stabbing him through the chest, his eyes wide.

Then she reached down, and with a shimmer of magic, stopped the transfer of Assassin's spirit energy to the grail. Her hand went through Assassin's chest, and pulled out her heart. She raised it to her mouth, and took a bite from the still quivering organ.

By the time Saber and Tatsuya returned to get the next batch of unconscious slaves, Lancer was gone, leaving only Mikihiko Shibata's corpse on the street next to a small stain of blood.


	10. Inside the Matou House

Chapter 10: Inside the Matou House

Saber protested the idea. Foolhardy, stupid, risky, and immature, he called it. But Tatsuya Tohsaka would not relent. He still had all his command spells, he reasoned, so if he really needed Saber, he could summon him. Besides, the Tohsaka and Matou families had known each other for decades. Even if the Holy Grail ritual had pitted them against one another now, they were still both valuable members of the Fuyuki community. He had grown up with Midori, and considered her a friend.

As Tatsuya made his way through the streets towards the Matou house, he felt the magical energy of the storm continuing to rise. But it wasn't the storm's obvious power that made him decide that he needed to act now. It was a sense of foreboding. This storm, as deadly and dangerous as it was, was simply a terrible mundane event. It posed only a limited threat to Masters, and was virtually useless against Servants. No, Tatsuya reasoned that the magical energy in the storm was serving some other purpose. It was essential that he put an end to it before Caster could complete his plans, whatever they might be.

And, for all of Saber's power, he knew that attacking Caster in his stronghold by himself would be suicide. The Caster Servant class possessed the Territory Creation class ability - and attacking such a territory was dangerous for any servant. It seemed that a gap in the storm was centered on a galleon anchored in the middle of Fuyuki Bay - obviously Caster's territory.

Even if Saber and Tatsuya had been confident in their ability to defeat Caster alone, Saber couldn't reach Caster's territory, anyway, as he did not possess any ability to fly or walk on water. And while there were various boats in the bay, most were too damaged by the storm to be seaworthy - and even then, the raging storm made approach nearly impossible. They would need some kind of magical path to reach Caster's ship.

Saber recommended waiting, attempting to draw out Caster away from his territory, but Tatsuya's instinct told him he needed to act immediately. So he sought allies. The ongoing destruction of the city made finding the other Masters difficult. He wanted Rider and her master - they seemed the most honorable of all the Servants he had seen in this ritual so far, but they were nowhere to be found. Even Lancer, who had asked to ally with him against Midori before approaching Assassin and Rider might have been preferable, but wherever Lancer was holed up, he did not know. With the death of Assassin and Archer's original master, that left only one Master that he could find and who might be able to help against Caster. Midori Matou.

Approaching the Matou house in the middle of the war was a dangerous prospect. With his own Servant nearby, he could expect nothing but an all-out attack. And given what he had seen from Midori's Servants previously, he wasn't certain he was ready to take them on. This was a peaceful mission of a temporary truce, and he wouldn't need his weapon for that. He hoped.

Zouken Matou responded to Tatsuya's knocks. He was still young, with long dark purple locks of hair. Tatsuya had known the man when he was growing up, and Zouken appeared to have aged maybe a year in the twenty of Tatsuya's life. In appearance, he looked only a few years older than Tatsuya and Midori. In spite of his apparent youth, his body seemed unnatural somehow, as though his bones were more a suggestion than an actual rule for how his body should bend.

"Ahh, the Tohsaka boy." He tilted his head - a sickening gesture that seemed like it should have broken his neck. "And no Servant? Perhaps I should…" A grin played across Zouken's face, his hand, crossed behind his back, molded into the shape of a knife, then back into a hand. "No, I'll leave that to my dear daughter. Oh, do come in, my boy. I'll bring her along."

Tatsuya sat on an old couch, nervously awaiting the arrival of one of his oldest friends.

"My Father recommended killing you right here, you realize, Tat."

Tatsuya let out a sigh of relief. He hadn't told Saber, but if the Matous had wanted to kill him, he probably wouldn't have had enough time to even use a Command Spell. That Midori was talking to him at all meant that he was safe, at least for the moment.

"I don't doubt that one bit, Midori. I'm glad you didn't." His smile was genuine.

Midori sighed a deep sigh. "I…. Just say what you want and leave as quickly as you can, please." Her sunken eyes shone with something that might have been fear, though Tatsuya couldn't be certain what she was afraid of.

Tatsuya swallowed. "A temporary alliance. My Servant is strong enough to fight Caster, but I need to break into his territory barrier in the Bay first. If you can help me get there, I'm sure I can end this damnable storm."

Midori looked to her side. "Berserker?" Berserker materialized from his spirit form to Midori's right, his haughty red eyes filled with contempt.

"Our navy was filled with bowmen. I have a few I can summon, but perhaps my other incarnation is more suited to this particular task."

Archer materialized on Midori's other side, golden eyes shining with disdain. "The river boats of the Nile can reach Caster. While I'm certain we can defeat this rogue weather magus on our own, I feel inclined to use this fool as our weapon. We shall kill him after."

A few hours later, the two Masters and three Servants stood on the shore, the storm beating on them. On the hill behind them, concealed by the storm and by a high level Presence Concealment effect, Lancer crouched, ready to pounce during the upcoming battle and take the heart of whichever Servant fell.


	11. A Storm for the Ages

Chapter 11: A Storm for the Ages

Archer concentrated for a moment, and a golden light shimmered. The simple river boats that had plied the Nile River millennia ago appeared on the shore. Long, thin, oar driven boats, they continued to shimmer with Archer's magical power. They seemed to try - and fail - to resist the powerful wind and rains of the storm. On the way there, Berserker and Archer had ensorcelled everyone they could find, though between the storm and the other destruction of the city, their army was a paltry one. Still, those they could find piled themselves into the ships, and manned the oars.

Tatsuya knew he was playing into Midori's hands, but it couldn't be helped. The end of the Storm would mean many more people available for the God Kings to enslave, not to mention restoring Archer's slaves to their maximum effectiveness, who were currently hindered by the strong winds and rain. Even so, Caster had to be stopped, even if it meant strengthening Midori and her Servants. One problem at a time, he told himself.

They each took a different boat - they had just enough slaves to put a skeleton crew on the five boats they needed to ensure that they could cross the bay each on their own transport. Whether through magic or their own physical prowess, they each could likely leap from boat to boat if they stayed at least a little near one another, as well. Given the intensity of the storm that was raging around them and preventing them from speaking to one another, the loss of even these magically summoned ships was entirely possible.

They set off, the enslaved men and women manning the oars, and pushing against the waves. Then, as soon as they hit the open water, a change began to occur. Emanating from Archer's and Berserker's boats, two spheres began to expand. Inside them, the water was calm. As they reached Tatsuya, he saw why. Inside the sphere, they were on a calm river. Desert land stretched. A pyramid was visible in the distance.

"A Reality Marble of the Nile. Clever." Saber mused. "But.."

They all followed Saber's gaze forward. Caster's magic was on a level all its own when compared to other Servants. Each Servant could use its specialty better than any other, but with Berserker and Archer, who seemed to have a number of tricks up their sleeve, when put in direct competition with a more powerful magus, their effects could not hold. That was the case now. The perfect sphere of their Reality Marble was already becoming jagged. The storm was tearing away at the edges, melding with the reality inside the Marbles.

"Forward!" Berserker raged at the slaves. "To Caster, now!" With a powerful surge of energy, the oarsmen in his boat pulled, and his boat surged forward, heading toward the now visible galleon in the middle of the bay.

But the worst was yet to come. The shimmering at the edge of their Reality Marble continued. Looking ahead, they realized why. A competing Marble had appeared. It was enormous. Centered around Caster's ship, it encompassed the entire bay. It finally overcame Berserker's and Archer's Marble, and replaced their reality with a new one.

They found themselves in the middle of an ocean, surrounded by dozens of large warships. They all flew an English flag. An entire fleet had manifested itself before their very eyes. The storm was muted here, but still present. But when the first cannonballs exploded on the water near Midori's ship, they knew they were in trouble.

Their river boats were, however, quite agile in comparison to the enormous English Navy ships. They dodged and weaved. The Masters, Midori and Tatsuya, stayed on their boats and attempted to get to Caster's main Galleon, now blocked by a half dozen other large ships, by weaving their way through the choppy water, the roar of cannon fire, and the explosions in the water from near misses.

Berserker leapt directly onto passing enemy ships, and laid waste to any of the sailors he could find. Saber took a more direct approach, and attacked the ships themselves. His huge sword gleamed with energy and he lashed out, sending a cutting wave rushing across the surface of the water, which sliced smaller vessels in half, and cut holes in the largest Galleons. Archer, after failing to enslave the Navy men in Caster's Reality Marble, drew out his own bow. It was a small, golden, curved composite bow, encrusted with jewels. He pulled back, his small, child-like frame for a moment seeming almost mature, and released a single magically formed golden arrow. It streaked forward, piercing through three ships, hitting the gunpowder supplies in one, and causing a massive explosion.

In the chaos, a lone woman swam underneath the battle, moving with unnatural swiftness, and dodging cannonballs as they struck the water. A single feathered spear still in her hands.

Somehow, through the battle, they managed to make headway, destroying ships and killing these magically manifested sailors left and right. Eventually the five of them reached Caster's Galleon. Only one of their boats had been destroyed - Midori's. She had lifted herself with powerful magic, and landed on Berserker's boat. She looked paler than ever. Tatsuya knew that her two servants were draining her of mana very quickly by using so much powerful magic. She barely was able to save herself when her ship went down, and looked like she could collapse at any moment.

"Perhaps this alliance wasn't such a bad idea after all…" Tatsuya mused. "No. No! She's my friend. I cannot take joy in this. One problem at a time, Tatsuya. One problem at a time."

Once they reached the Galleon, the Reality Marble faded away. The huge navy - now in disarray from the blitzing assault - faded into nothingness.

In the eye of the storm, the five attackers and their hidden sixth follower stood ready to make their way into the center of Caster's territory and put an end to the Einzbern participant in this war once and for all.


	12. Three Family Showdown

Chapter 12: Three Family Showdown

The deck of the Galleon, the Floating Scimitar, was enormous. But to the seven figures now standing on it, it felt tiny. Magical energy surged as the two sides stared each other down. Saber stood in front, as the rest of his side remained behind. Tatsuya, trusting in Saber's power, while Midori leaned against the bulwark, her sunken eyes staring forward, as her two servants stood between her and Caster.

"The Tohsaka and Matou families come to me, then? How fitting. The three houses assembled once again for this second ritual. But are there not still a few other masters for you to play with? I sense that all the other Servants still live, so it seems odd you would come here so soon. I pose no threat to you." Greed Einzbern stood, imperious, next to his servant, his white hair ruffled by a breeze, the kiss of sunlight - the first anyone else had seen for days - playing across his statuesque face. On his hand shone a single Command Spell - the other two were faded, already having been used up, though why, Tatsuya and Midori did not know.

Midori's servants watched the unfolding scene intently, though seemed content to keep their promise and let Saber handle Caster, as they leaned back as well, soaking in the sunlight shining through the gap in the storm as it cast down onto their golden armor. There, standing next to Midori, their small stature was apparent; their young woman Master was almost a full head taller than the two Servants.

Tatsuya frowned at Greed's comment. "All the Servants? But, Assassin… Never mind that! Why the storm, Einzbern? We can feel the magic, but what purpose does it serve? You cannot hope to win the grail with a little bit of weather."

Greed laughed, a deep, sarcastic sound, and then looked over to his Servant. "Are we ready?"

Saber took up a battle stance at Greed's words to his Servant, and lunged forward, his sword arcing through the air towards Caster's head. A shimmering field of blue magical energy stopped the blade in its tracks, however, as Caster waved his hand dismissively.

"The accumulated power will suffice even for this monster's Curse, I'm certain." Caster replied as he glared at Saber.

Saber stepped back, his tall, lean, elderly frame looking like a stick insect as much as a man as he circled around Caster and his Master, looking for a weak point.

"Do it, then. Let us end this farce."

The sun, directly overhead, was obscured once again, as a huge vortex of wind appeared on the deck of the Floating Scimitar, centered on Caster. Glancing around, they noticed that the storm - the whole storm system, covering the entire Fuyuki area, was coming toward them, spiraling down through the sky, and being absorbed into Caster, his arms held high, his eyes burning with blue energy.

Saber leapt forward, attempting to catch Caster in the middle of his spell, but at the last moment, Caster waved his hand, and Saber flew backwards, a part of the storm in the form of an arm made of cloudstuff lashing out.

Tatsuya, his eyes narrow, grimaced to see his Servant being handled so roughly. "Do it, Saber."

Saber sighed and stood. "Would that we did not have to rely on this." He planted his sword in front of him for a moment, then muttered the trigger for his incredible Noble Phantasm. "Zettel. The Epitome." Those present felt the curse take effect. Time slowed and felt sluggish as Saber dashed forward. His body moved against the laws of physics. Tendrils of cloudstuff, arcing with lightning, lashed towards him, but with only the slightest movements, he dodged, or, perhaps the curse rewrote reality so that they missed. None could act, frozen in place by the powerful magic, except Saber himself, as he lunged forward.

Then, in a surprise to everyone, a wisp of the cloudstuff swirling around Caster managed to touch Saber. Suddenly, the curse was broken. More and more of the dangerous fog reached out, and wrapped itself around the still charging Saber. Tatsuya fell to one knee and groaned.

Saber was being torn apart as a spiritual entity. Caster's magic was tearing away Saber's very being as a Servant. Tatsuya gasped, the link between himself and Saber meant that he was taking damage directly now, his own magic circuits being eaten away by Caster's magic.

Archer, his great vision, was the first to notice, but soon the rest of the group did as well. A spear flew through the air, piercing through the fog around Caster, and then through his skin and chest. The fog began to clear as Caster fell backwards, the spear protruding from his chest. The assembled magi and Servants looked for the source of the deadly weapon and found it atop one of the masts of the great ship. Lancer was there, a dangerous grin on her face. The clouds and storm that had plagued the city stopped swirling in toward the boat, and dissipated into the ether in a matter of moments, leaving a ray of sunlight showing Lancer's position on high.

"To the victor, the spoils." She leapt down, landing on the ship's deck, and thrust her hand directly into the chest of Caster, pulling out his still beating heart as he faded away. His power, however, instead of going to the grail, was absorbed into Lancer's body. The assembled looked on in awe and disgust.

"How DARE you!" Greed looked on at Lancer in fury. "You are.. You are destroying this ritual! That spirit energy must go to the Grail itself!" He looked at the other Masters, pleadingly. "Lancer MUST be stopped. The grail will never form if she continues this!"

However, the assemblage did not move. Midori, somewhat rested, was nevertheless clearly in no shape to support her two Servants for another showdown. Tatsuya was crumpled on the floor, his magic circuits damaged or destroyed by Caster's attack, though his Servant still managed to stand, leaning against his sword.

Greed fumed with rage. "Then I shall take care of it myself!" He reached into his robe, and pulled out a small vial. He pulled off the top, put it to his lips, and then fell to the ground, dead, Lancer's spear having sliced his throat open in a spray of blood.

Lancer, her malicious grin still in place, looked at the other Servants. "Even now, I don't think I will be able to defeat all of you together. But rest assured: we will meet again."

Saber dashed forward, attempting to slice at Lancer, but a bit of the same cloudstuff that had filled Caster earlier appeared around her, and lifted her into the air. She floated away a moment, then turned and flew at great speed back into the city.


	13. Reality Hacking

Chapter 13: Reality Hacking

The skies were overcast, with the occasional ray of sunlight piercing through - a welcome change from the raging storm that had filled the skies for the previous two weeks. The residents let out a collective sigh of relief, as those who relied on fishing or trade by sea could resume their livelihoods. But their relief was premature; the Second Grail War was far from over.

While the Tohsaka and Matou Masters retreated into their homes to nurse their injuries and gather their mana, Lancer began to hunt down Rider, shadowed by her enigmatic master. She flew around the city on her newfound cloudstuff, searching for the magical signature of the other Servant, while Zyanza, her master, lifted herself effortlessly with pure magical power. They were brazen about their activities; they wanted to draw out the other masters - and whenever a non-Master magus noticed their blatant disregard for the concealment of magic, they simply killed the interloper in the war.

Lancer already knew where to find the Tohsaka and Matou Servants, but Rider seemed to have hidden herself well after the previous battle, when Saber killed Assassin. In the end, it wasn't Rider that they found, but rather her much less stealthy master, Willie the American. If their tactics had been even a little more subtle, they could have found him in a few minutes, just by asking after the noisey man, but flying around searching for magic meant that it wasn't until they were accosted by another Magus annoyed at their flying around in broad daylight that they learned his position. As usual, he was in an inn - a hot springs on the mountain near the temple - drinking the day away.

Zyanza and Lancer made their way to the area, and, with a single glance between the two of them, floating fifty meters in the air above the springs, unleashed a double wave of crackling red magical energy, completely destroying the inn in a single blow. Lancer grinned, but her Master frowned.

The dust settled as the Servant detected the energy of Rider, finally. Willie's first bright red command spell was shimmering, and slowly faded as the dust of the destroyed inn settled to the ground. A field of energy surrounded the two of them amid the destruction, but corpses scattered the area and the building itself was completely ruined by the magical attack. Even the foundation was little more than rubble at this point.

And Rider's Master was furious about it. "Rider. Lancer must be stopped. Can you do it?"

Rider grinned. "Sounds awesome. Don't die in the meantime, champ."

"Reality Hacking!" She shouted, and a wave like that of a Reality Marble expanded outward from Rider's body - except that it didn't seem to actually make any changes to the world. Everything was essentially as it was previously, as far as any of the combatants could tell.

Willie raised his eyebrows. "So, Rider?"

Rider laughed. "Watch and learn, ancestor."

Lancer dove in, swooping toward the pair with a scream, her spear driving her forward on her floating cloudstuff, stolen from Caster. Rider watched carefully, then tapped a few symbols on her forearm computer, and Lancer suddenly smashed into a wall of solid bricks that had not been present a moment prior.

Lancer's Master watched, her eyes narrow. "Impressive, Servant from the future. A Reality Marble that doesn't overwrite the world, but augments it. The mana costs for such a thing must be significantly lower than a full Reality Marble. How long can you keep this up? Hours? .. no, Days?"

Rider smiled sweetly. "Days? Ha! Oh, sweetie, I maintained this magic for months on end in my own time. With the magical energy of a Heroic Spirit, I can easily keep this up for decades. Don't expect to defeat us so easily."

Zyanza looked at Lancer, and something passed between the two. They unleashed a wave of magic, and retreated back down the hill, toward town. Rider ran after them, her speed leaving a blue blur behind her. Zyanza noticed that Rider was not teleporting around the way she had previously.

The two Servants occasionally launched attacks towards each other. Lancer summoned lightning from her cloudstuff, still swirling around her feet, and Rider summoned various modern weapons, from rocket launchers to lasers, attempting to catch Lancer off guard. Soon, they had reached the town, and Rider had to avoid using her more destructive powers. Still, high powered rifles, or simply creating a ring of spikes around Lancer in the middle of the air were tactics she could still use.

Lancer's Master smiled. "It is unfortunate you were not there for the battle with Caster. You might have learned a thing or two about Reality Marbles."

Rider leapt backwards slightly at the threatening tone.

Lancer launched a powerful lightning bolt into the ground, directly into a residential building. Flaming pieces of the apartment building scattered around the vicinity, starting a dozen small fires. The building itself was gone, and a giant, gaping hole was present in the ground. Underneath, Rider saw what appeared to be an enormous underground temple of some variety. Lancer and Zyanza dashed down, into the cavern. It was lit by the ambient glow of massive amounts of collected mana.

Then, before Rider could decide if she should follow, a huge wave of magic came from within the cavern. She found herself in a jungle, next to a pair of enormous stepped pyramids.

"Welcome to the Pyramids of the Sun and the Moon, Rider. Your trick is of little value here." Zyanza grinned.

Suddenly, there was the roar, and rush of wind, tearing at Rider's clothes and hair, but before she could turn, something enormous bit down on her, its enormous jaws lined with teeth. Feathers and scales flew everywhere as she struggled, but she could not see what had attacked her, as the blood filled her eyes. She unleashed all of her magical energy, trying to overwrite this power, but Lancer, augmented by Caster's abilities, simply poured more mana into the effect, as Rider slowly bled out in the jaws of some unimaginable beast.

Standing near the giant smoking hole in the ground in the middle of Fuyuki, Willie grimaced. He knew that wherever Rider was, she was losing. When Zyanza appeared next to him in a shimmer of air, and cut off his arm with a broad stone ritual knife, removing his command spells, he wasn't surprised. It was finally over, this great adventure in the orient. As he bled out, the fires spread, consuming more and more of the town. Locals and visiting Magi attempted to fight the fires, but it took two days before the last of the fires was put out. And during that time, the Holy Grail war would go down to the final two masters.


	14. Inside the Matou House, part II

Chapter 14: Inside the Matou House, part II

Midori was breathing heavily. Zouken couldn't help her. He had been stabbed dozens of times, and although his impervious body stitched itself together after each wound, the healing was slowing down, so he had retreated to the basement She looked across the ruined room, furniture scattered and broken, at the single servant standing against her two. How could one servant be so powerful? Even if she was at a disadvantage here, this was unexpected. The kings had limited access to their pawns. In a way, Midori respected the attack; overcoming one of Berserker's and Archer's main powers by having the audacity to attack a magical family in their sanctum.

Still, as worn down as Midori was, Lancer was obviously feeling the effects of the ongoing battle as well. The two kings could still protect her well enough, and between Berserker's sword and Archer's bow, they were keeping Lancer, in spite of all her tricks, off balance. She would fly around on trapped cloudstuff, lash out with powerful magics, or even manipulate her hair, the way Assassin had, but against two strong servants, it wasn't enough for a decisive victory.

Berserker remained more offensive, leaping forward while twisting his small, agile form and dashing around the room more like caged lightning than a person. Archer hung back, perfectly anticipating Berserker's moves, and launching deadly projectiles into the fray - or intercepting Lancer's attacks before they could reach Midori.

Lancer swung her spear wide, creating space as Berserker dodged backwards. She shouted out a nameless cry of rage, her magical energy gathered from countless bodies washing over the room, wave after wave. The sword wielding god king struggled to drive himself forward, but the raging tumult of power drove him back. Then, the world changed. The four of them were in a jungle, two stepped pyramids rising from the trees.

Behind Lancer it arose. It was enormous, dwarfing even the massive pyramids. Its scales shone in the brilliant sunlight that now filled the sky. The feathers around its head were like a rainbow of color. The massive snake's head could easily tear a man in pieces with a single bite. Quetzalcoatl, the Aztec god, had descended to earth.

Berserker stepped back a half step. "Impressive, Lancer. At first I had thought you a nothing servant, but this is a fairly mighty ally you have crafted for yourself." His face went from a pained grimace to a smile of confidence. "But there is a flaw in your magic. The god you summon is a creature of pure magic, and, for all your power, you are still in the human world. Allow me to demonstrate. Archer, if you would."

Archer closed his eyes and magical power shot out from him, coalescing in the space next to him. It slowly began to take form as Quetzalcoatl unwound itself and began to dash down to capture him in its overpowered jaws.

Then, just before the feathered serpent could strike, a massive stone paw appeared, blocking Berserker from harm. The paw, then the leg, then the body of the mighty Sphinx appeared, its human face wearing the same mantle as the pharaohs' and its expression placid. Behind them, Midori dropped to one knee, her magical power nearly gone.

It leapt, catlike, and crashed into the giant serpent. Lancer's master stepped out from behind a nearby tree. "What is the meaning of this! How could you create such a creature, here, inside my own domain?"

Archer laughed. "Create? That is your mistake, master of Lancer. ~I~ did not create this beast. I merely summoned it. My slaves created it. Did you think the Grail's magic to be unique? That only it could summon heroic spirits? That magic was not discovered in Japan. No, the Egyptian god kings possessed that power and more long before the Japanese subverted it as part of this ritual. Magic can ignore time and dimension. It is that magic that the Grail uses to summon forth its servants. I simply use a similar magic to summon my own guardian."

Berserker laughed. "And since there are two of us… I imagine there are two of our Sphinxes, each from our own dimensions. Shall we see how things go two against one on the large scale as well? Or will you bow to us, and declare yourself our willing slave?"

Lancer's master scowled. "Neither. Let us retreat for now, Servant mine."

The ancient mesoamerican jungle faded away, and with it the feathered serpent. The Sphinx, however, did not. The house reformed around them, but was half destroyed by the enormous human headed cat in a cacophony of splintering wood and crushed stone.

Lancer leapt up, weaving through the air above the city on a bit of cloudstuff, her master hovering beside her.

Berserker leapt up onto the Sphinx's back, and commanded Archer's summoned noble phantasm to leap after them, crushing another home with each step. Archer jumped up onto the roof of the mostly destroyed Matou house, watching the chase with a grin.

Midori called out for Archer to stop the rogue Spirit, but he was gone. She looked down at the command spell inscribed on her hand, and opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment, Zouken appeared from the basement, and grabbed her arm, covering the command spells. "Let him go, child. Berserker with Archer's Noble Phantasm shouldn't have any problems defeating Zyanza's servant, and Archer himself can remain here to protect you."

"Call him back now! We will not stand for that much destruction of our city, Midori!" The voice called from outside the gaping hole in the house where Sphinx had destroyed it. There stood Tatsuya, flanked by his tall, gaunt Servant, Saber.

Zouken frowned. "No a chance. Leave now, Tohsaka. Your magic circuits are nearly all destroyed. Retire from this war, and leave us the victors, as it should be. We will call down the grail, and we shall touch the source!"

Midori looked conflicted, but was so weak that she couldn't protest. Tatsuya held his face in a stern expression. "Your champion is barely better off, Grandfather Makiri. Call back your Servant, Midori! You don't have to die for your Father's desires!"

"Never!" the purple haired man called out.

Tatsuya sighed, and gestured forward with his hand. His voice was weak. "I'm so sorry, Midori."

In the blink of an eye, Saber had dashed past Zouken, and ended up somewhere behind Midori. Shocked, Archer and Zouken looked back at the girl, just as her head toppled from her shoulders. Saber hadn't needed his Noble Phantasm for this job, and had instead relied on his speed and skill alone. In the distance, The Sphinx stopped moving, its stone form losing motivation mid leap, and crashing into the ground, shattering into thousands of pieces, destroying another city block. Berserker howled a pained cry that echoed across the city before his form, free from Midori's magical support, evaporated into the air, its powers going to he grail. Archer, with his independent action, looked at Saber hatefully before jumping off the roof and running out into the city, away from the corpse of his fallen master. 


	15. The Temple and the King

Chapter 15: The Temple and the King

Zyanza tapped at the device in her underground lair beneath the city. The gaping hole from the fight with Rider let in a ray of sunlight nearby, though she and her Servant sat in the shade near the blood speckled altar where Lancer had first been summoned.

"I'm sorry, Master. I cannot fathom how to use it, either. I absorbed that woman's magical powers, but it seems to require some key or knowledge to use correctly, and that key I do not have."

The device - Rider's forearm mounted computer - emitted a soft blue glow from its screen, but no matter what commands Lancer or her master put into it, it didn't seem to do anything other than report "Syntax Error".

"Well, if we cannot use Rider's powers," Zyanza spoke flippantly, tossing the device to the side, "we will have to rely on what we already have to face Saber, if Berserker's disappearance really meant the end of the Matou master. It is too bad he disappeared so quickly. His powers would have been useful. Still, with that Assassin's presence concealment, you should be able to assassinate Saber's master easily enough. And should that fail, Caster's accumulated storm magic defeated Saber once before. And if Saber's master is as injured as he appeared on the ship, perhaps it will be enough." The old woman clicked her tongue a few times, looking around the cavernous underground temple, then reached down from the stone bench where she sat and dipped her long, gaunt finger into a small puddle of blood, one of many, then brought it to her lips, licking the sticky substance with relish.

Suddenly alert, Lancer dropped into a battle stance, looking toward the ray of light coming down into the underground temple, her spear held behind her back and her knees bent. Her master continued to sit nonchalantly on the stone bench.

Descending slowly through the ray of sunlight and into the cavern was a boy in golden armor. Archer shone regally, his young face hardened like stone, his eyes shining with golden determination.

Zyanza smiled slyly, as Lancer remained ready to pounce should the other servant move in one wrong way. "What brings the fallen god king to my doorstep?" The older woman queried.

Archer took a deep breath. "I wish to ally myself with the winning side in this war. I seek a contract with you, magus." His voice remained stern, as if he refused to admit his limited negotiating power.

Zyanza, however, was keenly aware of his diminished position. "What exactly would you bring to such an alliance that I do not already have? Your Sphinx has been destroyed."

"I am still a heroic spirit, woman. I am far more powerful than any human. Saber is stronger than you realize. Only with my help can you hope to defeat him. My pawns will give him and his master pause. In a one on one fight, none could defeat that monstrous Spirit."

Zyanza laughed. "Heroic spirits are always more powerful than us lowly humans, you say?" Zyanza laughed more, eventually having to stop to catch her breath. "You amuse me, child. Lancer, stand back."

Zyanza rose to her feet, and turned to face the masterless Servant. "I challenge you, god king. Let us see if a mere human can fight a heroic spirit."

Archer hesitated a moment. The woman's confidence rivaled his own. "Very well." He reached into the air, his golden bow materializing from the air. He drew back the bow, and loosed an arrow in a single rapid motion.

Zyanza didn't move. The golden arrow flew over her shoulder, the wind of it flipping her hair. "Now, now, Servant. Stop playing around. I know you had no intention of hitting me. I'll let you try again, but do not disappoint me so thoroughly this time."

Archer's anger rose in a childish tantrum. "Foolish human! Fear the god king!" He pulled back his bow, his arrow charging with energy. Lancer moved to step forward, but Zyanza stopped her with an annoyed glare.

The arrow ripped through the air, leaving a shockwave that tore up the stone underfoot in its wake. Then, Zyanza waved her hand at the incoming attack, a magical barrier appearing. For a moment, the cataclysmic forces erupted throughout the cavern threatened to cause a cave-in. Rocks tumbled around them, rising into the air on magical currents. Then, as quickly as it had started, everything was silent. The arrow disappeared, but the shield remained in place.

"Know your place, Servant!" From the center of the shield, the arrow appeared again, and slashed through the air, its speed increased even as its direction was reversed by whatever magic the ancient magus put into it.

Archer had time only to open his eyes wide before the arrow tore through his abdomen, cutting him nearly in half.

"Lancer, be a dear and gather his power. We may have lost Berserker, but that might be for the best. Archer's temperament will be… less problematic."

Lancer strode over to the twitching corpse of Archer before he could fade away, and his power, rather than going to the grail, was captured as Lancer dug her claw-like hand into the boy's chest, and began to devour his heart, blood dripping from her mouth. 


	16. The Final Showdown

Chapter 16: The Final Showdown

Justeaze Lizrich von Einzbern, the homunculus that served as the grail's receptacle sat serenely in sezan style on the floor of the Tohsaka dojo, facing Tatsuya. "The end of the ritual draws near. No, this has been no mere ritual. Best to call it what it really is: A war. The holy grail war. But, my master, Lord Greed, was right. Lancer's tactics have weakened the grail. I do not know what Lancer's master hopes to gain, but knowing her, it can be nothing good."

Tatsuya was taken aback. "You know that woman?"

Justeaze frowned. "Indeed. Zyanza is a great and powerful magus. Though I did not interact with her directly, I know of her through my creator's master, Zelretch. As you know, Zelretch was the great master that trained apprentices from the Tohsaka, Einzbern, and Makiri families. His power was… beyond reason. And Zyanza was one of the few that he considered his peer."

Tatsuya looked up to Saber, standing tall at the edge of the dojo's floor mats. "Then we simply have to defeat her and her Servant, and reclaim whatever power Lancer has stolen, right?"

Justeaze sighed. "I hope it is that easy, but with Zyanza, I cannot be certain."

Saber cleared his throat. "Master. It would seem that the house's wards have been passed by an uninvited guest." Then raised his arms, materializing his sword out of the air, and swung it down. A strand of hair floated down towards the ground, buoyed by the wave of air from Saber's swing.

"Tch. It would seem that you noticed, eh Saber? Or, perhaps I should call you Johannes Liechtenauer, the swordmaster of Germany? I met you once, you know, back when you were alive." The elderly voice crept into the open air of the dojo.

Saber remained in a combat stance, while Tatsuya and Justeaze got up and scrambled behind him. Lancer walked in from the other end of the dojo, her elderly master trailing slightly behind her. An aura of malice dripped off of them.

Johannes leapt forward in an instant, his sword moving with such speed that it left afterimages. Lancer parried blow after blow, her feathered lance a whirl of motion, but the outcome was obvious if things continued this way. Saber was the better fighter in close combat; Lancer's blocks were coming later and later, barely keeping up with Saber's immense speed, in spite of his massive two handed blade.

Unfortunately for Saber, however, Lancer was not reliant on her pure combat skills. Just as Saber was about to land a decisive blow, she surrounded herself in the dangerous lightning-laced cloudstuff that she had acquired from Caster. It caught Saber's blade, and started to creep up its length.

Meanwhile, Lancer's master had circled around the fight, watching it with minimal interest. As the fight seemed to be drawing to an early conclusion, she turned toward Tatsuya and Justeaze. "Hmm. It seems your magical circuits are as ruined as my Servant reported. You're of little use to me. But that… A homunculus? A repository for spiritual energy, it seems. Ah! You're the living grail, aren't you? Or, you will be. It must disappoint you so much that we have our own plans to do with all the rampant spiritual energy that this ritual has provided."

Justeaze sighed. "I am just a tool for this ritual, nothing more. I feel no disappointment."

Zyanza laughed, her laughter a short, cold thing. "Now, now. Such alchemy may not be my strongest suit, but do not insult me with your claims. Life, no matter the source, inevitably experiences emotion. Homunculi are no different. If not now, then eventually you will come to experience disappointment. Perhaps that day will be today!" Her wicked grin radiated malice.

Tatsuya, tired of being ignored, jumped forward. His magical circuits may have been nearly destroyed, but he was still a skilled martial artist, and the heir to a renowned dojo. He lunged in, his fist driving forward, only to encounter a magical barrier, raised in the shortest possible instant.

"How? Magical powers can't be activated so quickly as that unless you are a… you are a.. Heroic Spirit?"

Zyanza laughed. "Yes." She revealed her arm, where it had been hidden behind her robes. The Command Seals were there, yes, but more, as well. Tattoos and symbols etched along the length of her arm in magical writing. "I performed the rituals on my own skin, ready to activate with a mere thought. I am stronger than any other magus in the world. Indeed. I killed Archer myself. Lancer did nothing. And all the power that she has been absorbing.. Well, a mere Servant has little need for such things. A proper magus, however.." She yelled, waves of magical energy pouring off of her.

Tatsuya tried to keep his footing as the waves of power pushed him back. This was a more powerful creature than even the heroic spirits created by the grail for the ritual. He knew that now.

"Saber! Now!"

Saber hesitated for the briefest moment. He had dropped his sword, letting it go rather than suffer the dangers of the cloudstuff again. "Master…" He knew that Tatsuya would suffer. With his magical circuits burnt out, activating his Zettel could kill the boy. At the very least, he would never use magic again. But what was the alternative?

Time slowed as the curse took its effect. The epitome, it was called. A technique so powerful that it would permit no defeat. His sword materialized in his hand, as if it had never left. He jumped forwards, heading directly towards Lancer. Lancer jumped backwards, having seen this curse in action before. Her only hope, she knew, was to keep him from killing her until he ran out of energy. She threw everything she had at him. Strands of hair weaving through the air. Magical blasts of cloudstuff. She even materialized Archer's bow and took a shot at the rushing Saber. But nothing could hit him. Barriers posed no threat. He had no need for armor - his curse prevented the world from bringing him harm until his target was neutralized.

A moment later, Lancer's head toppled to the ground.

Zyanza chuckled from the other side of the room, her barrier still keeping the flailing Tatsuya at bay. Tatsuya was breathing heavily. He coughed a few times, blood coming out and splattering across the floor.

"Well, this has been an entertaining ritual, but, no matter how you struggle, I am still the victor." She began to chant, a sound that grated on the ears of everyone present. The magic that had flown out of her before turned into a vortex. The wind was immense. The air was filled with dark, black magics. The blood of the people who had been killed throughout the town over the last few weeks rose into the air, and began flowing towards the Tatsuya home. The powerful force of Zyanza's magic threw Tatsuya and Justeaze back against the wall. The room they were in started to fall apart. It wasn't the force of the wind or the rush of energy that did it. The room seemed almost to deconstruct itself, to decay right before their eyes. Saber ran towards the rogue magus as her immense power filled the room, but some of the tendrils of blood from the town that was gathering in the space that had once been the Tatsuya house reached Lancer's corpse, and it began to heal. Its head, cut from its body, reached out with a stream of blood, reattaching itself. In a few moments, she would rise again, thanks to Zyanza's vast magical powers.

Then, everything stopped.

"Destroying MY HOME? Killing my grandson? UNACCEPTABLE!" Nagato Tohsaka stood behind Zyanza, his fist forward, where he had just struck. It was several feet behind the elder magus, but the effect was obvious. Her eyes were wide. She toppled forward, landing face first. The magical energy dissipated, dropping to the ground. "Proper knowledge of the physical world allows all magic to be pierced. I should definitely teach you that technique, my boy. Definitely." 


	17. The Grail and Epilogue

Chapter 17: The Grail

Justeaze closed her eyes. "The ritual is complete. The grail is here, for the final servant to grasp." She turned towards Johannes. "Though I must warn you that while there is no more energy to be acquired as part of this ritual, the, shall we say, unconventional means of this attempt, have left the grails powers insufficient for direct access to the source. It will not be able to grant any but the simplest of wishes. I am truly sorry."

Tatsuya chuckled. "I guess the old witch was right. Today was the day you'd finally feel something." Then he coughed again, collapsing to the floor.

His grandfather, Nagato, returned to his more normal elderly self, ignoring his recent display of prowess. He hobbled over to his grandson. "Oh, oh my. It doesn't look too good here. You'd best hurry up, Saber. Your master doesn't have much time."

Saber nodded gravely, surveying the destruction all around him. The dojo was in tatters, more rubble than building. The city, now plainly visible, was filled with destruction. The evidence of the fights between heroic spirits was evident throughout the town. A massive pit in the center of the town opened into the defiled temple below. The remains of the sphinx's journey and the sphinx itself showed a swath of destruction. The storm and the various fights left the city a broken place.

Saber sighed. "I had originally thought only to wish to be the best, the strongest. But I did not think such a wish through. In winning this battle, I have proven already that I am the strongest Servant. Perhaps I do not have a need for such a wish."

He looked around the room. Lancer had dissipated and joined with the grail, though Zyanza, still breathing, apparently held the bulk of the grail's power inside her.

"Then there is only one wish that I can truly have. I enjoyed my time here, and have grown fond of this world. I wish to see the damage I and my fellow Servants have inflicted on this place undone."

Justeaze frowned. "I.. That is, the grail does not have enough power to accomplish such a feat."

Saber leaned against his sword, suddenly weak. He glanced at Tatsuya. "Then can you at least save the boy?"

Justeaze smiled. "Yes. This is a wish I can grant. Let it be so!"

The grail manifested itself in a burst of golden light. The power was pure. The homunculus reached forward, and Tatsuya was raised up, like a puppet, limp and weak. His mouth was stained with blood.

A crystal formed in a pendant around Tatsuya's neck. "Let this crystal be the symbol of your life, Tatsuya Tohsaka. The magical powers of the grail, given physical form. Let its healing magics flow through you, and restore your life to what it once was!"

Tatsuya slowly lowered to the ground, then lay there. "He needs to rest. Unfortunately, Saber, the grail must now call for your return. With its power spent, even with your master still here, there is little time left for you."

"One more task, My lady." He lifted Zyanza over his shoulder, and dashed off. He knew that the witch was beyond his power to kill, even now, so he fled, finding someplace to entomb her and her evil for all time. Neither he nor the ancient witch was ever seen again.

Tatsuya's grandfather sat on the floor, breathing heavily. "Maybe.. Maybe I won't be able to teach you that technique. It seems I may have overdone it a little. I think I'll rest now." By the time Tatsuya finally woke, his grandfather had died, laying next to his grandson in the open air that had once been their home. Even Justeaze had left the desolate home for Einzbern estates elsewhere, her work in this ritual done.

Epilogue: The Second Grail War

The world forgot the destruction of a particular town due to an unseasonable storm. All eyes were turned toward the American continent and the civil war that took more lives than any war in history. But the magus association realized the true cause of the near destruction of an entire town and the deaths of hundreds or even thousands of civilians and magi from across the globe.

Only one master out of seven still breathed, though in spite of his knowledge, he was never able to cast a spell again; his body had been healed, but his magic was gone. The Makiri house, sullen in their defeat, officially changed their name to Matou. The Einzbern fled the city for their own holdings in the mountains, trying once again to find a plan to reach the source of all magic. The remaining magi from the ritual lay scattered like ragdolls.

Once the magic association finally arrived to clean up the mess, it was finally clear that the Holy Grail ritual of Fuyuki could not continue the same as it had previously. And with the vast number of deaths of magi in the city, the association was uncertain how to control such an event. One young member of the house Archibald, already a second generation member of the association, came up with a plan. If the Holy Grail war was so very dangerous, why should the magus association bear the danger? The church was all too happy to hate magi, and this would allow them to feel superior and take care of civilians, all while allowing the magus association to continue its research without diverting its resources to deal with such a ritual.

It took years to complete the deal, due to the mistrust between the association and the church, but eventually a deal was struck to ensure that the ritual could continue as planned, while the church became the overseers, watching the ritual, providing safe haven to participants who lost their servants, and, if necessary, sending in their Executors to prevent the magi from getting out of hand. In return, the magus association provided several artifacts, and permitted the church the right to study under the magi of the great families and to share in their knowledge.

By the time the third grail war began, he church was present, and able to contain the ongoing disaster that was the holy grail war to the shadows, and the destruction of the city in the 1860s was all but forgotten. 


End file.
